Harry Potter and The Horny Hallows
by ItsLeviosa
Summary: The following is a result of 24 hours without sleep and a weird conversation between me and my friend. The whole thing is just a pile of text messages co written by ItsLeviosa and Geekstatus. Smutty and hilarious, bad grammar and such


"You were born to catch the snitch Harry. And I…Hermione Jean Granger…was born to ride you like the fastest pony at a kid's birthday party. Saddle up, boy."

Harry lost any thought as his wand, 11 inches skin and jizz core ripped through his jeans. Hermione, apologizing to the books mid swipe, cleared the near by desk of all its contents and beckoned Harry with a single tempting finger. He let his pants fall around his ankles and shuffled over to her. She bent down; bowing to it like a hippogriff, and it responded by deciding to go upstairs and hang out with Harry's bellybutton. Harry smiled and said,

"Ok, you can pet it now."

Beginning soft and slow at first the bushy haired witch began to quicken her vigor. Regrettably, she forgot to take off her rings and hadn't realized she was doing wrong…until the screaming started.

Hermione looked down and realized she made a huge mistake. Harry's Gryffindor mane was tangled around her middle and forefinger of her wand hand.

Harry looked down in horror and thought Hermione was turning into a werewolf but realized quickly that it was his pubic hair wrapped around her tiny hand in a death grip. A mental image of the Devil's Snare from when they retrieved the Sorcerer's Stone came to mind.

Oh Harry, I'm awful at this. I'm so sorry." She said her face a deep crimson as she slowly tried to free her hand.

Suddenly she sneezed. It must have been the perfume she doused herself in before initiating this encounter. Her hand unconsciously started for her nose.

"BAD IDEA!" Harry exclaimed, tears forming in his emerald orbs.

"Honestly Harry, I know it hurts but yelling won't help anyone," Hermione answered in a chastising tone, "besides, it's your fault we're in this predicament. You should've shaved."

"I usually do, but I wasn't expecting you to go all Monica Lewinsky on my chudley cannon today. Just walk me to the couch so I can charm this hair off."

He slowly led her to the couch, reaching for his wand. Hermione walking on her knees beside him like a little kid in trouble. With a flick of his wand he shed his pelvic area of all its hair.

"It looks so much…..bigger…" Hermione whispered with a look on her face that Paula Dean would give a castle made out of butter. Harry smirked proudly and pushed her curly head towards his broomstick.

Suddenly Harry became very thankful for Malfoy hexing Hermione all those years ago. If he hadn't her teeth would've been painfully peeling his member like a carrot. A jolt of pleasure passed though him and he involuntarily jerked himself forward pushing himself further into the young witch's throat….too far.

She started gagging and between coughs sputtering out, "Shit….shit…goddamn…oh shit…goddamn shit" repeatedly.

Feeling guilty, he hoisted her up on the couch and pushed her back softly. He looked down at her great hall and licked his lips. Leaning forward he opened her like a book, and started to "read".

Hermione made a throaty noise that sounded like a lemur running on a slippery treadmill. This was a lot better; no one was being hurt at this point to Hermione's satisfaction. Her throat still burned however from her partner's "slip up" but she ignored it. After she felt her release, she pulled Harry's head up from her special place ready to kiss him. Instead she shrieked and pushed herself away making a thud as she hit the floor.

"Where…w-where…are y-your glasses?" she asked frightened.

Harry, having had his eyes closed tight throughout the attack on her lap kitty, hadn't realized his missing glasses. He immediately gasped and started fumbling around the couch cushions.

"Where could they have went?" Hermione asked in disbelief. Harry with a look of horror and realization slowly pointed to her hoo hah.

Hermione's eyes went wide as if she were looking through Trelawney's glasses and put a hand to her belly, "…They couldn't be…I mean…honestly Harry.." he nodded slowly and spread her mini Crookshanks. Inserting two and a half fingers to the knuckle, he started to rummage around.

Hermione made a disgusted face and said,

"It's not going to woooorrrk." He shushed her and continued his exploration. "Cant you just accio them out?" she asked watching him intently.

"Oh no, that would be an awful idea!" he exclaimed worried, "the glasses would most likely take whatever was obstructing them out as well."

Harry moved their position and moved Hermione's legs spread eagle on the table in front of her. Spitting on his hand he reached inside the clever witch up to the elbow which received a loud yipe that reminded him of a mandrake.

"Jesus Christ Harry! I know you've been with Ginny but not every girl is like Madison Square Garden inside!" she winced as he slowly pulled his arm out, holding what looked like a metal jelly fish. It was covered in slime, and leaking down his arm. Realizing that they were the missing item, she smiled.

"Thank god, I thought my first born was going to come out with those on." Harry laughed and magiced the slime away from his glasses. Putting them back on he lifted an eyebrow and stood up.

"Ya gonna take care of my whomping willow now?"

"Yeah but nothing fancy huh? Lets just shag. Kinky does not work for us obviously." She said laughing as he climbed on top of her.

He pushed his firebolt onside her and she felt like her back was now perfectly aligned.

And bang bang whomp whomp a "holy cricket" and 9 months later popped out a dark curly haired baby named Hermy Jeanes Potter. And they lived happily ever after, with a baby that never cried and a sex drive that never parked, and friendships filled with hair no lighter than brown and no freckles aloud. In a world where Hermione just baked muffins naked all day while Harry worked as an auror catching all the bad guys. When Harry got home, after hugging his talented son, he would eat a muffin and take his loving wife upstairs and beat her guts up.

They quickly realized that normal silencing charms did not help so after a quick disapparation to the library they found one. Never again would little Hermy have hear his mother and father's cries of passion. Or that weird slapping noise…or that weird squeaky fart noise that was always followed by a giggle from his mother. Or that other really weird leaky faucet sound that came right before the slapping. Or the pictures he found of his mother with a hot dog in her mouth, he found it odd considering she always went for a burger at the bbqs.

But he will never forget the time he had a nightmare and called his dad in. His face was covered in some sort of goo, and he smelled like Italian bread, and there was a deep gash over his left eyebrow.

Nor will he forget the time daddy said he was teaching mommy to drive from the backseat. Or the time his mom just blatantly said,

"Hermy, stay downstairs, daddy and I are going to shag."

The end.


End file.
